Hey this Benito, how are you ser. I know this is like my third time calling but I just feel like you have been ignoring me. Like really you said this was one of the best movie ideas you have heard in a long time. Or was that bullshit. I know that you have one of the best credits in Hollywood and I really want to work with you. I got a kid man ! I'm working 3 jobs just to keep this house.$ 900 a mother fucking month! You think I want this shit! My ex wife just passed away(sigh). What the hell am I gonna do with her. She don't got no family I gotta pay for that damn funeral. Maria was her name... Sweet, young, beautiful, a damn cheater. Then she lives my little rosa in front of my door step.
The look on her face reminded of the 1st time my wife was diagnosed with breast cancer. It shook me... (States at the ground) she was my wife and now I Don't know how to feel about it. My heart is saying I still love her deeply. But my mind is saying this Witch ! How could you do this to me . And don't get me started with my girl friend, she wants to get married and we have only been seeing each other for 5 months. The hell is her problem? She cute and all and the sex is great don't get me wrong. But goddamn a Mirage?! Is she insane? Like really I know you want to agree with me . I love her I really do but I’m just not ready for something like that (Pauses) again... But where was I man. Stop bullshitting me, excuse my language but really this could help get your career back as one of the best directors in the world. Just (sighs) think about man. I'm not going to sit here in beg to you like dog who hasn't seen outside in days. I just want the opportunity to take my abilities to the next level.
Se llama carmelo anthony, tiene 28 anos. El es de Nueva york, pero vive en Nueva york.
Es el super deportista, bien antipatic, bastante talentoso, en muy trabajador. Le gusta practicar deportes en correr. No le gusta nada celajar en domir. Es muy serio. Es muy alto. Es el muy inteligente. Es el muy delgad@.
As I was sitting in the library on a gloomy afternoon. I wrote in my journal, “I hate myself”. I was staring at the window looking outside. At the same time I was thinking about the girl that I really like. She is in my class and her name is Samantha. Yeah I got to admit she is pretty cute and beautiful. It doesn’t matter if she is popular or not, I still like her no matter how she is. I smiled at the image of her that I have in my head, but soon the smile became a frown because of the thought of folding to her in front of my friends. I was facing a life of laughter because I keep avoiding her after promising and texting her tell her to meet me after school. I avoided her because I was nervous I had butterflies in my stomach and then that feeling took me over and I have to avoid her. But she agreed to meet me and I ditched her because of my nervousness trait. In my mind I always remember the words face your fears, but I can’t face my own. I shook my head as I have that flashback to the scene. I shook my head as I have remembered what have triggered this nervous shock that cause me to be nervous whenever I talk to girls. It was in 2006 as I was a young boy. I really liked this girl in my class. Then one day I went and talk to her and she rejected me. From that moment on I felt unsure when I was talking to a girl. I always have that thought that she doesn’t like me. After the flashback I looked up at the clock and I found out that I have been sitting here for about an hour now and so far I can’t study at all. I have been slacking off a lot because I keep thinking about Samantha. She is always in my mind. Well since I was slacking off I picked up my phone and check to see if I had any messages.
The words “No messages” pops up on my phone. Well I guess nobody, none of my friends are going to text me a sign of motivation. Just as I put away my phone in my pocket. I felt my phone vibrated like crazy, like its yelling at my to pick it up. I picked up my phone and saw the display of the words “ 1 Message” on my phone. Now the dampen feeling that I had before has now brightening because of the text that I just receive.With anxiety I press the button on my phone that will lead me to the text of motivation that I have been dreading for minutes. When I saw the message the read it quickly, reading word for word. Quickly I discovered what the message said. It said “ Hey Jack I know you were stuck and folded to Samantha. Don’t even bother talking to me anymore if you don’t get this figured out.” I remembered that time when my friend Ralph was telling a girl name Matilda to meet him after school. I stood there waiting for the bus and I saw her standing there waiting in the freezing weather for Ralph. As 15 minutes went by I knew then that he wasn’t coming. I know my friend Ralph ever since we met in 5th grade he was a jerk then and now. I guess people never change over a series of time. Now as I was reading this text I was reading with a smile on my face and now that smile has turn into tears of frustration.
God, What should I do? Where should I go? How can I get out of this? Sometimes I feel like I don’t belong on this earth. I’ve been having second thoughts on my life. I am stuck in middle of know where with trees, a body of water and leaves falling everywhere all over me. There is no sunlight and all I see is animals run back and fourth through here. I am scared, lonely and cold. I don’t know what season it is.
I don’t know what the day it is? I don’t know when my birthday is. The only person I can leave out this world with is you. I believe you can help me if I keep praying on it. I came in this world by myself and I don’t want to leave this world by myself. Everyday I wonder why? Why did I come into this world? Why I am along? Why me? I am a young boy who’ve have not learned the value of life. I don’t know why life is important. I don’t know if life is short or long. What is the meaning to life? I have no one to ask that question to but you.
Every night I go to bed thinking I would wake up the next morning in the morning with family in my life. I don’t know what family is because I don’t have one. God your my family. I don’t know how I got here and why I am here. I have been sitting here on this log watching the sky imaging. Imaging what your thinking or listening to what I am saying. I think in my head its no point of me being here. For the last couple of months the one thing that came to my mind is, what if? What if I have a family. What if the things I’ve been praying on became true. And What if someone is looking for me. But then People don’t even know if I am alive or dead.
I wish I would had the opportunity to go places and learned things in this world and thats why I am asking you if you could change this for me. I lost everything in my life and need help. Since your the only one here I have the opportunity I wanted to ask you. I will keep praying day and night for help. God, can you, wait I hear something. God is that you?
El eś Josué Hutcherson. Eś chico. Soy de Kentucky, pero vivo en California. El eś diecinueve anos, le feliz cumpleanos octubre doce. Le no me gusta nada, leer. El eś bueno en bailar. Le encanta comer. El eś súper cómico.
I’ve been sitting down all day, imagining myself twiddling my thumbs. What to do, what to do. I wonder what life would be like if I was a person. Now that’s living the good life. Okay, stop day dreaming Larry. You have a customer now. Here we go again.
I am nothing but a worthless treadmill in a gym. Yup, that’s me. I sit around here all day, not making a single move. I observe the gym until someone decides to trample all over me and go for a jog. Yeah, I’m living the dream (says with sarcasm). Some dream huh? Its more like a nightmare.
Its just not fair. My friends are useful things, that involve happiness and excitement. Sarah is an iphone. She gets to entertain the manager all day long, as he plays Angry Birds. Bob is a television remote, providing all the best comedy shows on the flat screen for the customers. Charles is a laptop for the assistants. And we’ll all never forget the boy named Larry who was nothing but a treadmill. Yeah, that’s something to brag about (says with sarcasm). I’m not saying all my friends are something special, but I’d take being a cell phone, laptop, or a tv remote any day. I’d rather be anything but a darn treadmill (sighs). We are all stuck in this gym but there’s just one difference about me vs. them. They are perfectly happy being in this place. But I can’t take another minute of it. They would understand if they were a treadmill, too.
Its time to get out of here. I can’t do this anymore. Sitting down, lingering in people to stomp all over me is not my ideal vision of a good life. So what’s left for me? What can I do now? And how do I get out of this nightmare?
Yes, its closing time. And another day at the gym is over. Time to sleep. TIme to dream the dreams that will never be. Who knew it was possible for tears to well up in a treadmill’s face. There’s a shooting star (closes eyes). I wish I was something better in this world. I don’t want to be a treadmill anymore.
Well, that was the best night of rest I have had in awhile (rolls over and rubs eyes). Wait a minute. How did I just do that? I’m a treadmill, I can’t move. I can’t do anything. What is going on (looks around the room). I’m still in the gym. So what has changed?
I’m human! I’m an actual person (looking the mirror reflection)! That shooting star actually worked (running around the gym, jumping, singing of happiness). I’m amazed.
Oh no, I hear the manager’s voice opening up the gym (runs into the bathroom to hide). Thank goodness he didn’t catch me. He can’t find a random person in his gym because the last thing left in this place was a treadmill...the old Larry. That’s right, I’m the new Larry (smiles). Time to get out of here.
I can live my life now. I can have a real job (looking up at the sky, walking, breathing in the air, smiling). What do I do now? What’s the first thing you do when you are an actual person? Well, first, I have to find a job, then buy a house, and get a car. I might even need more than one job if I plan on paying on these bills. Oh, and I can’t do anything without a cell phone. I’ll get lonely, then I need to stop by the adoption center to buy a dog. Then after I get my house, I have tons of shopping to do. I need appliances, and food, and clothes. Oh no, can I really pull this off? Being human isn’t as easy as I thought it was going to be. This is to much for me, I need some rest (falls asleep on a bench outside the gym).
I hated this place. A nearby fan flooded my pages with dusty air, and the hard shelf I sat upon awoke me to a back ache every morning. I sat amidst a sea of thousands, just another copy. All I wanted was to be ideolized, at least paid attention to, but my cover read to be overlooked. To be met with the same passion with which I was bound was simply all I desired. Instead, trapped between those exceeding me, I slowly perished. I was starved; none knew hunger like I, desperate for hands and eyes.
The Exchange of Goods and Services in Pre-Sargonic Lagash. I hated the name. It left the tongue with a stale after taste, but I knew I had so much more to offer a reader! If only they would take me off this shelf. I was trapped here, left to die in a row of historical literature the world had long since forgotten. All but one, The Rise and Fall of Rome. I hate to admit to jealousy, but my pompous next-door neighbor was the reason behind all of my disappointment. Those visiting my shelf were so infrequent, that when one teenager looking for a passing book report stepped down the isle, my spine began to quiver. Time and time again, the child’s hand would creep down the row, snowballing my anticipation, only to plummet as Rome was lifted off the shelf.
I envied that book. I just wanted to be read, held, carried! To travel, and see the world, supposedly so astonishing. I often conveyed these desires to another neighbor, Abraham Lincoln, a Man of Faith and Courage: Stories of Our Most Admired President, but it goes nowhere. I wanted companionship above all, which is something another book just couldn’t fulfill. Created by humans, I felt an intense connection to the species, craving their affection. I was quickly losing hope, and began a transition to despondency, until I noticed a pattern in my library’s attendance.
A man returned to my isle for the fourth time that month! Once a week, to choose a new tale of historical literature. Now I had grown curious. I was quick to assume that he was here for me, and simply didn’t know it yet. As the weeks went by he drew closer, seeming to be going down the isle, one book at a time. I observed, and yearned for his touch. I couldn’t help fantasizing about what it would be like to be read by him. He was a young man, maybe early twenties. He wore thick, horn-rimmed glasses on his nose that accented his black widow’s peak. Imagining him as a young scholar, older than his age, seemed fitting to me. I watched as he turned the pages of my neighbors, with grace and care, almost a religious touch. The months drew on, his approaching hand still all that was holding my pages together. I became more conscious than I’d ever been, alert to every footstep, anticipating his weekly arrival.
At last that time came, the day I would be read once more. I had counted his progression, one book a week. For once, this was the time a hand would not pass my spine. I heard the squeak of leather on tile, saw the glint of lenses turn the corner. My pages fluttered in anticipation as he proceeded down the isle, his hand lifting to my shelf. His fingers flitted over the pages towards me, sliding over my spine, lifting Rome out of the spot next to me. Once again, I was left waiting.
